Gone Too Soon
by Love the Brightest Star
Summary: Sirius wasn't sure when the idea of marrying her crept into his mind (for he had never thought of himself as the marrying type), but it was undeniably there. But he had never thought that fate would be so cruel as to take her away the precise moment he came to make her his own. Blackinnon oneshot.


**Hey guys! Here's another little oneshot for you — my first Blackinnon story. I've got another underway, a long one. Let's see when I can finish that. Meanwhile, enjoy this! It** ** _is_** **AU, I suppose, but it is upto you to choose and believe. Cheers! Read on... And please don't forget to click on the review button!**

 **Disclaimer : I'm not J.K. Rowling, sadly.**

Autumn had arrived uncharacteristically early that year, and by early August, every tree was decked in a cloak of red and gold. Every now and then, the sweet voice of a finch or the raucous cry of a magpie could be heard from a nearby tree, breaking the silence that stretched across the quiet county. The main road gave way to a narrow cobblestone path, covered in dry leaves and flowers. Not too many people went this way, and the lane was almost always empty.

That day was an exception, for a young man was strolling down the road, occasionally running a hand through his sleek dark hair.

It was a known fact that Sirius Black did not care for formal dressing; his usual attire of denim and leather could tell anyone that. Anyone who was familiar with the young wizard would, therefore, be surprised to see him on that particular day. He was crisply dressed in a full sleeved black shirt and trousers, his collar pulled down well and proper, and a tie hanging primly round his neck, for once. His hair was neatly combed down, and fell on the back of his neck in graceful waves. His usually confident self bore an unmistakable air of nervousness, and every now and then, his hand would bury itself in the back pocket of his trousers, his fingers brushing across the velvet surface of the small box which lay inside.

It was a very important day for the young man. He was, after a long time of indecision, going to propose to his girlfriend of two years, Marlene McKinnon. They had been dating since their final year at Hogwarts, and the closeness between the two had only increased over time. He hadn't been too sure if the idea of marriage was suitable for the time; they were, after all, at war, and every one had their own worries and problems to handle. His brain had provided him with a number of reasons why he should back out of it (the first being their young age, and the last, the possibility of her declining his proposal), but after watching just how happy James and Lily were with each other, married, and with a son, of whom he was the proud godfather, he had finally made up his mind. Despite the fact that it was dangerous to stray out in the open these days, he had put aside his missions and asked her out to spend the day with him, which she had graciously accepted. He wanted to do it all properly, hence the impeccable dressing.

He moved forward a few steps and turned at a corner, inhaling the sweet smell of the roses which bloomed in the house. He loved her, her house and her family. Her parents were the bravest and sweetest people in the world, and treated him as their own son. Her younger brothers and sisters, who would be starting their sixth and seventh years at Hogwarts in a few months, were really friendly and delightful. He never got tired of frolicking with them. Then of course, there was Marlene herself, whom he loved more than his life. His pace quickened automatically as he thought of her, and soon he found himself only a few metres from their home.

Yet, as his eyes fell on the part of the house visible over the tall hedges, he instantly knew that there was something wrong. One of the window panes at the second floor was hanging at an odd angle. Not only that, his animal instincts, which had been nearly as good as those of any real beast ever since he became an animagus, told him that something was definitely out of place. He was filled with a sense of foreboding, and his earlier nervousness heightened, the reason this time different from the previous.

With long strides, he quickly reached the main entrance of the McKinnons, only to be stopped in his tracks, dumbstruck. The wooden door that led to the sitting room lay collapsed on the floor. Official looking people, whom he recognised as senior aurors, were talking gravely to each other. One of them, whom he knew to be Auror Bentley, noticed him.

"Black," he greeted in a sombre tone. He could not bring himself to return the greeting. Instead, he just asked, "What happened?"

"Death eater attack," the official replied shortly. "Whole family killed."

Sirius simply stood, unmoving, as the words sunk slowly, too slowly, into his brain. They were dead. All of them. Marcus. Miranda. Maria. Max. Mabel. Marlene. They were dead. But it could not be true. The McKinnons, so brave, so hardy, dead? He just stood, still as a marble statue, swallowing the impossible message like a dose of poison.

Until they brought him out of the house — Mr. McKinnon. His body was littered with scars, his eyes open and staring. Bile rose in Sirius' throat as they lowered him to the ground, and he saw the now frozen face, which had always held a smile and a mischievous twinkle in the eyes, the same eyes which were now empty and glassy.

He was followed by his wife. Miranda McKinnon looked stunningly beautiful even in death, the beauty which her daughters had inherited intact in her still features, but the aura which radiated from her powerful personality was now gone. Sirius wanted to move forward and close her eyes which stared at him without seeing, bearing an expression of horror, but his body refused his commands, remaining rooted to the spot.

And then they came out with her body, and his body was suddenly free of all the bonds that were keeping him immobile. He almost ran over to where her still body lay, and kneeled down at her side. She lay with her eyes closed, unlike her parents. Her face bore a neutral expression, and if he hadn't known better, he would have thought that she was merely sleeping. Tears collected in the corners of his eyes; the little velvet box seemed to be burning a hole in his trousers. He looked around him; the aurors had gone back inside the house, probably to look for the other bodies. He was alone. His eyes drifted back to the girl with whom he had wanted to spend the rest of his life, who had been so cruelly snatched away from him.

"Oh, Marls..." he whispered, his voice breaking. He knew that she was sunken in a sleep from which there was no awakening, the lack of pulse in her now icy wrist screamed it out loud, but a part of him which was bound by no logic or reason longed for her to open her eyes, to flash that dazzling smile which made his heart course with desire, to jump up and sing out that it was all a joke.

With a trembling hand, he brought out the box from his pocket, and carefully opened it. There was no more use of doing it the proper way; he was too late. Her deep blue eyes would no longer shine joyfully at him, her lips would not curve up in a loving smile; she would not scream and laugh and throw herself at him when he said those words which he had been practising in front of the mirror; no, she would lay still and cold, oblivious to his presence beside her. The tears overflew and ran down his cheeks in tiny cascades.

Taking a long, shaky breath, he looked straight at her closed eyes, imagining the sapphire orbs that were now hidden by her pale eyelids, and began speaking.

"It has been two years since I fell in love with you, Marlene McKinnon. We have been together all this time, and I have cherished each and every moment I spent with you, each kiss we shared, each night we spent together. I know that these are not the best of times, that there is a war raging on, and we don't know how things are going to be, but all I want to say is that I love you, more than my life, more than I can express in words, more than you know. I love every single thing about you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you." His voice wobbled; the next part wasn't going to remain the same, for his words were planned to be directed to a girl who was full of life, not to her corpse.

"I wanted to you to be my wife, Marlene, I still want it. I came here to make you my own, but found you g-gone. I wanted to ask you, 'Marlene McKinnon, you are the loveliest person I have met in my entire life. Will you honour me by becoming my wife?' But now you are not here with me, Marls, so I'll only say that you are the most beautiful, lively, exasperatingly wonderful person I have ever seen, and wherever you are, I want you to know that I love you."

His self control cracked at the last word, and his whole body shook with sobs. Silently, he slipped the ring onto her finger, where it fit perfectly. He pulled her up against him gently, placing his lips against hers. Despite the coldness that had spread through the rest of her body, warmth lingered in her soft red lips, and as he caressed them with his own for one last time, he fancied them moving ever so slightly. He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her jaw, memorising with every touch the sensations that her closeness offered. She was soft, she was sweet, she was everything he wanted, and yet, she wasn't with him. Burying his face in her silky hair, he inhaled the lingering smell of orchids in her tresses, which had been perfume he had smelt in his cauldron of Amortentia way back in school.

"Why, Marls, why?" he whispered. "Why did you leave me behind?"

In reply, the branches of the giant yew tree swayed gently in the breeze, the leaves overhead whispering back.

He pulled back from her, placing her back to her prostrate position. His eyes skimmed over her, soaking every one of her features for one final time. As much as he wanted to stay by her side, he would have to go back and live his own miserable life, support his friends, fight the war, everything; and she won't be at his side. She won't stagger into his place with a bottle of firewhiskey as he mourned the loss of yet another Order member, she won't cheer him up with her infectious laugh or kiss his fears away; no longer would Marlene McKinnon walk on this earth.

The knot at the bottom of his stomach was growing worse as the gravity of his loss began setting in inside him even harder; he began to feel suffocated even in the open countryside. He stood up with one last caress on her cheek. He felt that he ought to stay for the rest of the corpses to be brought out, but it seemed beyond his capacity; he had heard enough; he had seen more than enough.

"Goodbye Marlene," he choked out, a tear from his eye dropping down on her porcelain cheeks. "I love you."

And with that, Sirius Orion Black was gone, never to be seen on that dusty street again, taking with him a hoard of broken, painful memories.

 **-The End-**

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